


The Score of Hurt

by Saraste



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, M/M, Wordcount: 100-500, nwalin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 15:52:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19212649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraste/pseuds/Saraste
Summary: Nori comes and leaves as he pleases and Dwalin is always letting him, but it cannot last forever.





	The Score of Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe possibly probably inspired by the song "Not Strong Enough" by Apocalyptica. Written as a challenge to myself to post a fic that was exactly 400 words in length as my 400th work posted here on AO3 (not actually the 400th fic I've ever written, that ship sailed sometime in the previous decade during the heyday of my LJ-days), and gave me quite a trouble, mostly due to my insistence on posting a drabble a day during June, I couldn't get a third fandom in for that before posting this.  
> Brilliantly beta-read by [katajainen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katajainen) who also provided each-sillier-than-the-previous suggestions for the title of this fic, which I, in all politeness, declined.

Nori has made his way into Dwalin’s bed with promises he never intended to keep and yet Dwalin lets him, every single time, because it would hurt more not to, and he always finds himself incapable of saying no.

 

In Nori’s embrace there is always forgiveness and a pleasure he finds nowhere else, even when he seeks it without any luck, cursing himself when one kiss from Nori’s sweet lying mouth makes him forget.

 

Dwalin counts, he knows that he shouldn’t, but yet he does, counts the number of times Nori comes and goes, the times he forgets his better sense for a night or a span of days, a week at most, until Nori’s gone off again with no promises of coming back. They both know Dwalin will welcome him, if he does.

 

Because that is what Dwalin  _ always _ does.

 

He gives of himself, is always ready with a warm room, a comfortable bed, his heart open for Nori to love and then discard; his ears hungry for the small sweet endearments that are all surely lies ‒ Nori ever only croons them when they fuck ‒ his fingers eager to run through a russet mane that Nori never allows to be braided, aching to stake his claim there, to make Nori  _ belong _ , but there’s no caging a wild lying thing, is there; and, his body at Nori’s disposal; that he gives pleasure as eagerly and willingly as he takes might be the only reason Dwalin’s yet to say a resounding  _ no _ , to deny him his home, his body and his heart.

*

‘I can’t do this anymore,’ Dwalin forces himself say, one day, because he  _ has _ been counting, and 400 times, spanning decades, is too many times for him to allow his heart to be broken.

 

Nori stops his welcoming caress, pretty eyes alert, whole body quivering on the brink of  _ flight _ , as Dwalin knew it would. ‘Do what?’

 

Dwalin takes a step back, as he  _ needs to _ , then another, until Nori’s hands fall away. ‘ _ This _ ,’ he gestures at Nori’s pack in the doorway, Nori himself geared to snatch it and go at the slightest provocation, ‘… _ you.’ _

 

And Nori must finally see it, Dwalin thinks, finally realize the hurt left in his wake. But if he does, he doesn’t show it; his face is carefully blank.

 

He leaves without saying goodbye, and Dwalin knows that he won’t need to count anymore.


End file.
